Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) (13 page)

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
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He frowned as the realisation hit him that he
did
seem to want more.  He had a growing yearn, he realised, to get to know her, understand her - show her that she could place her trust in him and he would not let her down as her first husband had.

Now what the deuce was that all about?  Was he turning into a sop, for God
’s sake?

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

When Isabelle awoke
the next morning, she was alone.  Her immediate concern was for Charles, and stopping only to grab a wrap to cover her night dress, she swiftly made her way up to his bedroom.  Guy was already there, helping his young son to sip some medicine.

‘It will ease your throat,’ he encouraged gently, ‘and help you sleep so that you may better recover.’

‘I feel hot, Papa.’

‘Then I will ask Nanny to bring you some cool muslins that she may bathe your forehead.  Ah, here is Mama.  She will keep you company while I speak to Nanny.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Isabelle asked softly, sitting down on the bed. She was relieved to see that he looked a little better and felt a little cooler. 

‘My head hurts, and my throat,’ he said in a feeble voice.

‘It is horrible I know, but you are being very brave and it will soon pass.  Your Papa and I were worried about you last night.  You were not at all yourself.’

‘Papa came to see me, didn’t he?’

‘He did indeed.  And we sat together here with you until the worst of your fever had passed.  We will keep dropping in to see you today to make sure that you are still on the mend but it will take a few days yet before you are properly recovered.’

‘I’m very sleepy.’

Isabelle rose.  ‘Then I will leave you to get your rest, for that is the most beneficial medicine you can have.  And when you wake we will return.’

Back in her room, on the verge of calling her maid to assist her, she looked up in surprise as the door opened
and Guy walked in.

‘I missed our rendezvous last night,’
he said, with that deep smile that seemed to do funny things to her stomach. ‘You were sleeping like a baby when I joined you and I did not have the heart to disturb you.’

‘Oh, I am sorry.   I did not mean to fall asleep.’

‘Did you not?’

‘No.  I was a little tired after sitting with Charles I suspect.’

She’d known that he had slept in her bed last night, for a couple of times when she’d stirred she had been aware of his solid presence next to her.

‘I forgot to ask you yesterday how things went with Sophia?  You had a good day, I trust?’

‘Thank you, yes.  Things seem to have quietened down between the pair of them and they are in a period of reflection I think.  They asked me to pass their condolences to you.  How was your day at your mother’s house?  Not too difficult I hope?’

‘It was not easy.  And then to come back to the news about Charles and see him lying there, looking so poorly-’

He was looking tense and strained, and she had an urge to ease the furrow from his brow.  She turned back in her seat at her dressing table, disconcerted by this unusual pull of empathy.

‘May I?’

Before she had realised his intention he had closed the gap between them and was relieving her nerveless hand of the hairbrush she had just picked up.  It felt incredibly intimate as he softly ran the brush through her hair, taking his time, watching her image in the mirror as he did it.

‘You have lovely hair, Isabelle.  I enjoy running my fingers through it when we are making love.’

His words sent a little shiver through her, and try as she might she could not dispel the images that leapt to mind as she remembered all that had passed between them.

She found herself holding her breath, waiting to see if he would take things further.  And when he said nothing - merely continued to hold her gaze
like that, she heard herself saying in a husky voice she barely recognised. 

‘Are you in need of some comfort, Guy?’

She could scarce believe she had uttered the words.

‘Are you?’ he returned softly.

‘No, of course not.  That is …’

The look in his eye unnerved her as he
gently swept the hair on her shoulder to one side and lowered his mouth to her neck. 

‘I think I should
probably warn you, he murmured, grazing his lightly lips over her skin, ‘that any time you offer me comfort, I will find it very difficult to refuse.’

She trembled, her head dipping to one side to allow him fuller access.  And when he gently
nipped her, she gasped, her body’s needs firing into life.

He pulled her up from her chair and she turned to him willingly, but when he would have kissed her fully on the lips she averted her face so that his kiss instead landed on the side of her cheek.

‘Why will you not kiss me properly, Isabelle?’ he whispered huskily, his lips moving back to try and tease hers into acquiescence. 

She stiffened. 
She didn’t understand herself her reluctance, except that maybe that was the one thing she still felt she had some control over.  She seemed to be falling so swiftly and completely under Guy’s spell that it was alarming - and it went against everything she had previously considered so important.

‘I don’t know how to.’

‘Let me show you.’

His lips settled on hers once more but though she made no move to push him away, her own mouth remained passive beneath his.  Her very coolness seemed to fire his passion all the more.

‘You cannot know how much I have been thinking of you,’ he muttered, pushing her up against the dressing table as his hand found its way beneath the hem of her night dress.

She bit her lip as his fingers settled on the tiny peak that was the centre of her being.  She was already moist for him and found herself thrusting onto his palm eagerly, her arms encircling his neck as he circled the nub again and again.

‘Ah Guy,’ she gasped, her head rolling back. 

‘What is it you want, Isabelle?  For I know what it is I want.’

‘I want you to pleasure me,

she breathed.

She gasped as he suddenly whipped the top of her gown over her head, exposing her body to hi
s
feasting eyes for a moment before he sank his head to roughly nip first one breast, then th
e
other.  She moaned, pushing them into his mouth all the more, reveling in the feel of his lips, his tongue, his teeth all devouring her as if he could not stop himself. 

H
e
ground against her and she felt him fumbling with the waistband of his breeches - felt the familiar panic at the thought of what might happen next.

‘No.’

‘Yes,’
he muttered, suddenly swooping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the bed.  ‘I need to take you – need to be inside you.’

He lay her on the bed and was immediately atop of her, p
inning her down with his body as his fingers reached swiftly down to continue their work.   Her lips swelled and moistened as he circled them relentlessly,
wringing more and more exquisite sensations from her.  She moaned, barely aware of him removing his shirt until she felt his skin, hot and exciting on top of hers.  And then it was as if a dam had burst.  Everywhere hands and legs as he took his taste of her flat stomach, her breasts, the delicate line of her neck.  And she too found herself touching back, hesitantly at first and then with increasing wonder as she explored his broad back, the tops of his legs, his taut, muscular buttocks.

He was everywhere, his mouth possessing every nook and cranny of her as it explored her
body possessively.  But when she felt him hard and hot pressing at her entrance, she froze again.

‘No, Guy
.’

‘I need to,’ he breathed.  ‘Don’t fight me, Isabelle.’

He was pushing against her, she felt the all too familiar sensation as her muscles seized and refused him entry.  She braced herself for the pain.  For his shaft was not like Richard’s.  It was thick and solid and would tear her apart when he forced himself into her.

But there was no pain. 

‘Relax,’ he soothed gently, easing the pressure and wiping a wisp of hair from her brow.  ‘Know that I won’t force you.  We have as much time as we need to overcome this little hurdle.’

‘But it is not a little hurdle,’ she whispered, mortified.   She tried to reach for him.  ’Let me finish you.’

In answer he stilled her hand and shook his head.  His eyes were filled with passion but there was a tenderness there that took her breath away.  He was lying on top of her, his cock pressed firmly at her entrance, nudging gently.  He raised himself onto his elbows, raining light kisses on her mouth, her jaw line, her neck as he gently swirled the tip of it in her juicy wetness. 

She moaned.  It felt wondrous, better even than his fingers had done. 

‘Relax your body, Isabelle.  Relax your muscles.’ 

His voice was a deep, seductive whisper, as very gently he pressed his shaft against her entrance and then withdrew it.  Then he repeated the action over and over again, until her heightening need for him began to outstrip all other emotions.  She could feel her muscles relaxing even as her tension was building.

‘Aah, Guy,’ she gasped. 

He rocked on top of her, the ridge of his shaft sending a thousand volts burning through her each time he nudged evocatively at her entrance.  ‘What do you want, Isabelle?’ he whispered.

He bent his head to nip her breast.  ‘This?’  

And as he nipped it again, ‘This?’ 

She moaned, thrusting herself up to meet him.  ‘Try,’ she muttered.  ‘See if you can …’

 

The words were like nectar to Guy’s ears as he attempted to enter her.  He almost groaned his frustration out loud when still he could not.  He was in danger of erupting at any moment and had to resist the temptation to take his member and pump the seed from it with his own hand. 

Restraining himself, he continued to rock gently on top of her, rolling his shaft in her slick wetness so that it slid back and forth between her lips.  Her breathing quickened as she began to meet him.  He could feel her softening, opening up to him again as he probed gently at her entrance. 

The effort to control himself caused a bead of sweat to form on his brow.  He must not ruin this. 

Gradually he eased himself into her - sliding a little deeper as she started to accommodate him.  But his need was getting the better of him, and when he came to another barrier, he could not prevent himself from jerking forward with a deep grunt. 


O
h
.’ 

She cried out and he stilled, vexed with himself for his impatience.  But he was glorying in the feel of being buried deep within her at last, and could not contain his actions for long.

  Gradually at first, and then with more vigour as he realised she was starting to move with him, he began to thrust. 

And it was his undoing.  For once he had started he found he could not stop.  Again and again he pounded into her, his strokes deepening as at last his passion took over.  Lust was consuming him, making him oblivious to everything except the feel of her body beneath him, her soft gasps as he rode her.

And she was keeping up with him, her mutterings in his ear becoming more feverish.

‘Oh, yes, Guy.  Yes.
Do not stop.’

His mind dimmed.  He felt his seed rising.  He wanted to hear her cries of pleasure, watch her as she came, but he was losing it. 

He groaned as the first wave of orgasm submerged him, then the next. He was pumping into her as if his life depended on it, and as he thrust deeper he thrilled at Isabelle’s sudden sweet cry of ecstasy as her body arched up to meet his in shocked abandonment.

‘Guy,’
she cried, gripping him hard.  ‘Oh,
Guy
…’

And he continued to pound into her until the very last of his seed had left him. 

It was several minutes before he came down from the clouds - before he could make any sound at all.  He was lying collapsed on top of her, his head buried deep in her hair, as he breathed her in sensuously.  He had never felt so emotionally spent, so sated.  And whilst he could not pretend that he understood why, he was simply inclined to enjoy the feeling while it lasted and ask questions of himself later.

‘Is all well with you, Isabelle?’ he murmured, raising himself onto his elbows and
looking tenderly down at her.

 

Isabelle was having difficulty coming to terms with the enormity of what had just happened and she stared up at him in bewilderment.  For while a part of her was elated at discovering she was as normal as any other woman, that elation was clouded by the realisation that she might possibly be developing feelings
for her husband that were more than  simply sexual.  For how could anyone so lose them self in another who meant nothing to them?  She struggled to sit up, feeling a panicked need to be alone, but it was difficult with Guy’s body still weighing her down like this.  And dear God, the weight of him on her was stirring up those sensations again.

‘I am very well thank you, but I need the bathroom, Guy, if you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Of course.’
He was looking at her strangely and she found herself looking away from the intensity of that gaze. 

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
9.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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